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Winter

He’s a quirky man with thin glass spectacles
He’s the beat of birds’ feet through the trees
The roar of a fire flaring up from damp leaves
He’s the gray of dusk in seasons like these.

And there’s the red of the cardinals back
Blood red spot on his feathered cap
A skip to a tune you once knew
Everything’s turning white, gray, and blue.

He’s only coming once a year
Welcomed by autumn and ushered out by spring
He’s a mystery even when he’s here
He melts up to make things clear
He loves the spring
With all the life she brings
And he’s a quirky man with thin glass spectacles
He’s winter with thousands of glistening crystals.





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